


Oliver’s Last Day

by usghostfire



Series: The Death Day Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usghostfire/pseuds/usghostfire
Summary: Oliver Wood reflects on his life.A/N: Sorry for the typos, I am currently unable to edit on the device I am using.
Series: The Death Day Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712077





	Oliver’s Last Day

He woke suddenly to a full bladder, it seemed as the years pressed on he was further unable to sleep in, his bed clock confirming it had just reached 5am. His creaky body protested his sitting up but he made it just the same. The floorboards were chilly having not had the benefit from the midmorning sun warming rays. He slowly made his was sighing in longing for the good old days when his body worked with him to get things done; when he didn’t have to sit down to pee because his knees didn’t like him standing on them for too long and would lock up. Oh, now those were the days.

Looking himself in the mirror he couldn’t help but smile a little. Even for his age he still looked pretty good, sure his hair was gray but he still had all of it, and he certainly hadn’t let himself go either, maybe his joints were putting up a protest now and again, but he wasn’t all stooped over and he could still get about to the chores fairly well. All and all he’d had a good life with a wife, kids and grandkids. He snapped his fingers; that’s right his grandkids were coming over today.

“I better get some food started for lunch…” Then he remembered the time, “After I get some more shuteye.” He headed back to his bed, and sighed a bit longingly looking the empty side of the bed. His wife had passed through the veil some ten years back and not a day had passed since where something didn’t remind him of her. At first it had hurt so much he felt almost as if he could have laid down and not gotten back up, but it was the birth of his first grandchild that had given back that spark of life he had been missing. 

Later, on he woke again and saw that it was a much more reasonable time to wake up; a not so early 9 o’clock morning greeted him as he stretched out pulling his covers off him as he did so. He could hear his clock ticking marking time in its ever steady movement onward. Today was going to be a good day. He picked up his wand from the bedside table and summoned his clothes for the day. Walking over to the curtains he pulled them open and was greeted by the day already in progress, there were a few clouds looming and he felt the now familiar swelling of his joints foretelling of an oncoming shower.

After he was dressed he headed towards the kitchen putting a kettle on the stove to heat up for some tea later on. Now it was time to get some cookie in the oven for the grandkids. He wrinkled his brow trying to remember which type of cookies they were most fond of, “Now Jamie, he likes peanut butter, Hava… Hava likes chocolate chip and little Cici she loves… sugar cookies.” He had taken to talking to himself in the time since his wife died, but he figured a few excentrities of an old man living alone was acceptable.

The cookies in the oven he sat down on the porch to have a spot of tea, it was a delightful day so far and the rain had only started falling off in the distance and he glimpsed a rainbow. As a boy he had loved to try and find the pot of gold at the end and he would spend hours trotting off here and there listening for any nearby leprechauns giving away the location of the end of the rainbow. When he had grown up some his father had sat him down to explain that even if he were to find the gold it would simply vanish after a while. This information did not dissuade him from still trying to find the elusive pot filled with gold, he was nothing if not determined.

Like clockwork, he heard the whoosh of flames as he pulled the last tray of cookies out of the oven. He smiled to himself, straightened up and turned around, headed into the living area to greet his family. 

“Grand Da!” Squeaked a little girl of three struggling to get out of her Dad’s strong hold.

“Hey Da.” His son said smiling brightly at his father. “I just got the best news!” Before he could continue two more figures stepped through the threshold of the fireplace, and ran up to the old man. He bent down to hug them both, as his daughter-in-law stepped through.

“Jamie, Hava! What have I told you about not dusting yourself of before going and hugging your Grandfather?”

They jumped back with guilty faces and turned to their mother. “Sorry, Mom.” 

“No harm done, Rose.” Their mother had always been rather formal; she took after her mother that way. He only vaguely remembered her from their days in school, but later on everyone knew her name being the only female of the golden trio. “I’ve just set some cookies out to cool, how about some lunch first?”

After a lunch of sandwiches and cookies the children went out to play and Oliver visited with his son and his daughter-in-law out on the porch. “What it is you were saying earlier, son?”

“Oh, it’s the best news ever Da! I’ve just got selected as official photographer, worldwide wizarding news.” Worldwide wizarding news was a well-known quarterly publication that did specials on different cultures around the world. It was considered a very prestigious magazine.

Oliver raised his eyes in wonder, “My son, that is simply amazing, who knew when you first picked up a camera from your friend Mr. Creevy that you’d come this far? I am beyond proud, just think a Wood as a famous photographer.” At this he clapped his son on the back and then hugged him soundly.

“Thanks Da, but I’m not sure my fame will ever surpass your generation or your own accomplishments as a professional quiditch player.”

At this Rose spoke up, “Oh don’t be so modest, you worked hard for that position.”

“Cheers to that, son you know, we all did what we had to do. It landed more or less in our laps and had to be faced, nothing special about that. Mankind has been going to and fighting in wars farther back than history can tell. As for my quiditch days, I was good but your talent to see what others miss is nothing to sneeze at. You bring such life and imagination to your photos… You must get that talent from your mother, because you did not get it from me.”

His son looked down at this; he was not used to his father speaking so many words and of praise was a bit much for him to take in. Until that moment he had never been sure if his dad had been disappointed in having a son who did not love to fly, but now he knew that his dad truly loved him for who he was and he just couldn’t find a way to express how happy that knowledge made him feel. His dad after all was the famous Oliver Wood, best keeper Britain had ever seen.

Oliver shifted a little in his seat; he too was not used to saying so much but felt he should add something, “Your mother would be over the moon son. She always loved your work; it was her that helped me see the beauty in it.” He smiled at his son then in a reassuring sort of way as if silently adding, ‘I’m sorry I was blind to it to begin with.’ 

The kids, at this point, had worn their selves out and headed over to the adults. Hava looked to her grandfather, “Pop pop, will you tell us a story?”

Jamie set his little sister down on his mother’s lap, and she bounced up and down expectantly. “Cici,” her mother shifted her, “please remember, mother’s not a trampoline.” At this the little girl settled for the time being.

“Please Grand Da?”

Oliver looked to his beautiful grandchildren, “Oh, I think we might have time for one before you lot have to head home, what would you like to hear about?”

“Can you tell us about your first quiditch game ever?” Jamie would be starting Hogwarts in the fall and hoped to play for his house team someday. 

Cici’s smile widen and she momentarily forgot about the not a trampoline thing and bounced a few more times, “Yes, tell us please.” Then with a warning look from her mother stilled herself as best she could.

He smiled and looked at Hava, “Is that alright with you munkchin?”

“Yes, Pop pop. It was the story you told Harry Potter on his first game isn’t it?” Hava for reasons unknown to her parents had developed a bit of a crush on the Boy Who Lived or at least the boy part, Harry as an adult seemed a concept lost to the child, as if such people never truly grew-up.

“Alright let me just think a minute…”

I remember it was a chilly morning and I woke-up early from excitement or nerves. It’s hard to tell the two apart sometimes. Anyways, at breakfast I could hardly eat a thing and my captain took me aside. He was a little weary of putting me in. I still hadn’t had my growth spurt yet and as such was still small. However, he seemed determined to give me a pep talk. “Wood, I know you might be nervous but remember you have the speed and agility to block whatever they throw at you. They can’t directly touch you so all you need to worry about is the Quaffle. Oh, and watch out for the Bludgers too.” Oh how much I would have liked to have remembered that last little bit of advice.

“That’s cuz you got knocked out by one right?” Hava asked.

“Shhh, let your Grandfather get to that part.” Rose scolded lightly; she too enjoyed her father-in-laws quiditch stories as they were not ones she had grown up hearing, they took place before the time of her own father’s playing days or in a different environment than his.

Smiling lightly Oliver continued on.

The sun had come up and broken through most of the clouds and there was a light breeze. Perfect flying conditions and we stood awaiting the whistle. We walked out on to the pitch and even though we practiced there all the time it seemed so very different. So big. The stands were packed with cheering students and I thought there could be no better feeling than this the waiting for the start of the match. Then the whistle blew and I was soaring up to our goal posts.

Suddenly it seemed a Ravenclaw was barreling towards me, Quaffle in arm. I focused on her my heart racing. I was so focused I almost missed the other Ravenclaw approaching on the left until it was almost too late, she faked and passed to the other chaser and he looped around behind the posts and attempted a shot from the right. Instincts took over then and I dove barely blocking the shot, but that was all the boost I needed I felt alive and as if nothing could stop me, then… then out of nowhere a bludger came and slammed into me. The next thing I remember I was in the hospital wing and had missed a week of classes.

“Grand Da, did you win?” Jamie asked.

“You know, in all the matches I ever played in I think that was the only one I can’t remember who won.” He smiled. “For me, that match wasn’t about who won or lost. As a player I had proved I could play my position against older and more expirenced players, from that day on I never looked back. I knew that was what I was going to spend my life doing.”

They sat in a comfortable silence as the sun sunk slowly behind the tree line. It was then that Rose spoke, “Well children it’s time for us to head home. Now say goodbye to your grandfather.”

Less behaved children may have moaned and put up a protest, but they knew it was no use arguing with their mother. Their father would respond to their reluctance with an earlier bedtime for acting childish. But as they got up to hug Oliver they lingered a bit with each hug in a form of silent protest. 

Oliver walked them to the fireplace, Rose hugged her father-in-law took Cici up in her arms and after sending the older two through stepped in herself and return home. 

Father and son stood alone quiet for a brief moment then Oliver found himself swept up in a hug the likes of which he had not received from his son since he had left for Hogwarts for his final year. “Da, I just want to say, ‘Thanks’ really. It means a lot to me that you are happy with… I mean that you, you know understand how important this photography stuff is to me.”

“Son, I couldn’t be prouder of you if you had beat every Quiditch stat known to man. You are doing something you love and doing it well enough to provide for your family. Really I hope I taught you at least that… A measure of a man is not in just what he does it’s in the bravery he pursues his dreams and that he takes care of those he’s responsible. You do both in a way not man could top.”

He let go of his son and watched as he stepped through the threshold of the fire place and disappeared behind the flames.

Later that evening after a light dinner and soak in the tub Oliver laid alone in his bed on the same side he’d slept in for 30 years replaying that day. He smiled to himself. Sighing he leaned over and extinguished the lights and in the cool dark spoke aloud, “Today was a wonderful day.”

He drifted off to sleep shortly afterwhich, thinking again that it had been a wonderful day, that all in all he had lived a great life. Those were his last thoughts, for in the late hours Oliver Wood slipped from sleep to death, his breath deep and easy simply ceased. 

Oliver Wood had indeed lived a great life.


End file.
